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A humorous look at the fact that even reading the newspaper can become a distant dream in the daily grind of the wife and mother to a young child.
Sunday, Jan 29, 2017
I woke up fresh after a sound sleep of around 6 hours – something I got after almost 3 months. Luckily the baby did not wake up at night and slept well, which gave me my luxury of a long peaceful sleep. Guess she decided to give me a Sunday time off and I am thoroughly thankful.
Sundays are really a blessing, and after the baby, more so. It’s the only day of the week, when I can hope to do something completely selfish – READ. Without any guilt and as long as I want.
Before pregnancy, Sunday mornings were spent leisurely enjoying the cool weather and fresh coffee along with an hour dedicated to reading Sunday newspapers. I am that kind of nutcase who greedily gulps down the Sunday supplements of around 3-4 newspapers. I can’t just imagine a better way to start a Sunday other than reading Devdatta Patnaik or Shashi Tharoor or Shobhaa De for that matter or any other Sunday special column. It’s a brilliant way to shake up the lethargy gathered over the week.
This Sunday was no different and I was eagerly awaiting to absorb my pleasure. And because I had woken up half an hour early, I had a whole 30 minutes extra to myself. I freshened up and decided to just make my hot coffee and get hold of the paper.
After I made my coffee and was about to pass to the balcony through the bedroom, my baby as fresh as a daisy called out “mamma”. She looked so happy and energetic after a good night’s sleep. I put down the coffee and spent some time playing with her, relaxed and laid back. She was so excited to find me next to her in the morning. Usually, I am in the kitchen whenever she wakes up.
After half an hour it was time for her breakfast. Then peeing and pooping and cleaning and another half an hour later, I finally got hold of the paper again. Sanjay Leela Bhansali had got himself in trouble, it seemed.
Hubby dearest woke up at the exact right (or wrong) time today. GRRRR. Sunday isn’t necessarily a ‘Let the wife do her thing’ day. “Honey, can I get a sweet cup of tea please?” came the request. And the all-time ‘melting like ice cream’ wife I am, I gave in.
Then it was our weekly chilling and chatting session when the hubby chats and I chill. It was almost 9.30 by that time, and my ‘jeevansathi’ kitchen was calling me eagerly. It was time for breakfast and the preparations for the lunch. So probably, my love, my newspapers had to wait till my life, my kitchen gets her due.
After the cooking, cleaning and bathing again, I was searching for my papers. I thought there was half an hour before we had our lunch. Right? Finally I will get them now.
ME: “Mr. Husband, have you seen the newspapers?”
HUSBAND: “Oh yes. I am reading them now. Could you please read them little later?”
ME: (Here go my papers again. Sigh!)
Lunch done, baby fed and put to sleep, husband off to market. It were only me and my newspapers. Finally.
Ding dong, the bell rang. I opened the door and saw my cousin Dipu and her husband standing and smiling at me. Already a little irritated with the sight, I wondered what they were really smiling for? Were they really happy to see me or they sensed my one moment of peace and decided to just destroy it? But I didn’t get the time to think and the next 3 hours went away chatting, cooking, eating, cleaning and seeing them off.
I was feeling a bit tired now and a little bit frustrated. The end of the day was so near. So I decided to take the baby to the garden. She enjoyed a lot and I felt happy to see her that way. She kept running around and I kept pace to avoid her falling and getting hurt. After we went home (mentally fresh but physically exhausted with all the running around) I handed over the baby to her Baba and prepared the dinner.
The cycle continued, feeding, burping, peeing, pooping, cleaning and finally a sigh of relief. The day was almost over and my newspaper reading seemed like a distant dream.
It was time for our dinner. Thankfully, the husband had taken mercy on me and offered to clear the dishes post dinner. I took the baby to put her to sleep but she wouldn’t budge. She was absolutely fresh and wanted to have another go of running in the garden. I asked the hubby to help but with the India VS England T20 going on, it was as if I was asking him to dance bare foot on fire. I had no chance. So after half an hour of playing, cajoling and a little bit of scolding, finally the baby was tucked into bed.
Eureka. So finally now I could dig my head completely in the paper and eat those words hungrily.
My back was hurting badly due the day long exertion. I had finally got hold of the set of newspapers which were spread all over the house. I had just kept them on the bed when they all fell down and spread on the floor due to the sudden gush of wind from the window. Even the nature was scheming against me. “So unfair!” I thought.
Finally I have collected all the papers painstakingly and am now resting my back on a stack of pillows, with a soft blanket over me. The lights are off and the only light is from my side lamp. I start my reading with Mrs. Funny Bones. I have always liked her strong and candid opinions. The article seems interesting.
But wait a minute! What’s this? Why are the letters suddenly dancing? And since when did they start putting capital letters in the middle of the sentence? Did anyone put off my side lamp? I try to call out to my hubby but he is fast asleep. And I just can’t seem to be able speak a little louder. Is someone putting an ice on my eyes? I Don’t know, I can’t see… its all dark…and darker now…and more…and more. Z Z Z Z!
Monday, Jan 30, 2017
I have collected the stack of yesterday’s newspapers and I am looking at it longingly. I need to keep it in the ‘raddi’ cupboard before the maid comes. The entire day’s exertion took its toll and I dozed off to sleep yesterday before I could finish reading a single paragraph. One more Sunday lost being a mother, a wife. Anyway, I should read something in the office today online. There won’t be much time, but at least some.
Sunday, Monday, any damn day. Its all the same for a mother and a wife. Sunday is like any other day, any other day can be a Sunday.
Reader women like me, I APPEAL! Please lets start a ‘Morcha’ at the office. We want one hour off everyday for reading!
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